Travel Adventures for Grown-Ups
Megeve, France - Snowshoeing to Dinner
Info:
Megève Tourism
70 rue Monseigneur Conseil
BP 24
74120 Megève, France
Web:
www.Megève.com
Phone:
(+33) 04-50-21-27-28
E-mail:
Megève@Megève.com
Megève Mountain Guides
Web:
www.guides-Megève.com
Auberge du Christomet
4775 Route Jaillet
Megève, 74120, France
Phone:
(+33) 04-502-111-34
Dinner:
€27
Snowshoeing to Dinner in Megeve, France - Almost
by Mitch Kaplan
photos by Mitch Kaplan
If we wanted to eat dinner on our first night in Megève, France, and the next-to-last night of our French Alps ski trip with FranceGuide.com, we’d have to earn it.
How?
By snowshoe.
In the dark.
"And the point of this, is?" I wondered aloud.
To illustrate that visitors come to the French Alps—Megève in particular—for more than just skiing.
"We get lots of visitors who want to know about snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, winter hiking, dogsledding and even tobogganing," Elizabeth, our hostess from the tourism office, explained patiently.
Elizabeth was a southern Californian native. But, heck, she spoke French fluently, was charming and had been living here for a year. I took her word for it.
On the Trail
We piled into a pair of cars. We rode up a winding, switchback road. We admired the lights of Megève twinkling below. We stopped in the middle of nowhere and Emile, our guide from Megève Mountain Guides www.guides-Megève.com/Welcome.html, began pulling gear from his minivan.
Outfitted and ready to go, we encountered just one problem: no snow in sight.
"Follow me," said Emile. Over the guard rail and down the hill he strode.
"Watch out for the electric fence," he called back over his soulder, pointing to a few wires on the ground.
Great. We’ll be electrocuted before appetizers.
Turns out, it wasn’t electric. Just barbed wire. So, we wouldn't get zapped. Just shredded.
We trudged down a steep, grassy hill. In a hundred yards we reached snow. In another fifty yards, we reached a path. We descended into the woods.
French mountain guides are serious guys. They’re trained in geology, botany, history, first aid, emergency medicine, CPR, avalanche safety—you name it. They lead all kinds of adventures from backcountry skiing and rock climbing to, well, snowshoeing.
They’re paid to exercise good judgment. Which is a good thing. Because after ten minutes’ hiking (all downhill), we came to an impasse.
A river.
The path reached the river ten yards downstream of a footbridge. The river apparently hadn’t read the program. It was supposed to be frozen. So we could walk to the footbridge.
It had thawed.
Much searching. Some splashing. A makeshift "bridge" of small logs was tried. But, no dry path was to be found or created.
No Go - But We Can Eat Anyway
We turned back.
Too bad. Also too bad: the return was all uphill.
The Good news? We could still reach our mountainside restaurant, Auberge du Christomet. We had two choices:
regain the trail after the road crossed the river
or, drive.
The vote, after four days of skiing and jet-lag? Drive.
The dinner: superb fondue, fine wine, rich desserts, and good cheer.
Tonight we stuffed our faces. Tomorrow we could ski off the calories. I was just glad we didn't have to trek back in the cold and dark with overstuffed bellies.
by Mitch Kaplan
photos by Mitch Kaplan
If we wanted to eat dinner on our first night in Megève, France, and the next-to-last night of our French Alps ski trip with FranceGuide.com, we’d have to earn it.
How?
By snowshoe.
In the dark."And the point of this, is?" I wondered aloud.
To illustrate that visitors come to the French Alps—Megève in particular—for more than just skiing.
"We get lots of visitors who want to know about snowshoeing, cross-country skiing, winter hiking, dogsledding and even tobogganing," Elizabeth, our hostess from the tourism office, explained patiently.
Elizabeth was a southern Californian native. But, heck, she spoke French fluently, was charming and had been living here for a year. I took her word for it.
On the Trail
We piled into a pair of cars. We rode up a winding, switchback road. We admired the lights of Megève twinkling below. We stopped in the middle of nowhere and Emile, our guide from Megève Mountain Guides www.guides-Megève.com/Welcome.html, began pulling gear from his minivan.
- A foot measuring device.
- The latest in snowshoes—plastic with rachet-style buckles.
- Adjustable ski/hiking poles.
- Headlamps.
Outfitted and ready to go, we encountered just one problem: no snow in sight.
"Follow me," said Emile. Over the guard rail and down the hill he strode.
"Watch out for the electric fence," he called back over his soulder, pointing to a few wires on the ground.
Great. We’ll be electrocuted before appetizers.
Turns out, it wasn’t electric. Just barbed wire. So, we wouldn't get zapped. Just shredded.
We trudged down a steep, grassy hill. In a hundred yards we reached snow. In another fifty yards, we reached a path. We descended into the woods.
French mountain guides are serious guys. They’re trained in geology, botany, history, first aid, emergency medicine, CPR, avalanche safety—you name it. They lead all kinds of adventures from backcountry skiing and rock climbing to, well, snowshoeing.
They’re paid to exercise good judgment. Which is a good thing. Because after ten minutes’ hiking (all downhill), we came to an impasse.
A river.
The path reached the river ten yards downstream of a footbridge. The river apparently hadn’t read the program. It was supposed to be frozen. So we could walk to the footbridge.
It had thawed.
Much searching. Some splashing. A makeshift "bridge" of small logs was tried. But, no dry path was to be found or created.
No Go - But We Can Eat Anyway
We turned back.
Too bad. Also too bad: the return was all uphill.
The Good news? We could still reach our mountainside restaurant, Auberge du Christomet. We had two choices:regain the trail after the road crossed the river
or, drive.
The vote, after four days of skiing and jet-lag? Drive.
The dinner: superb fondue, fine wine, rich desserts, and good cheer.
Tonight we stuffed our faces. Tomorrow we could ski off the calories. I was just glad we didn't have to trek back in the cold and dark with overstuffed bellies.
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